


Poetic Justice

by Moongem



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 00:29:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4326951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moongem/pseuds/Moongem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was meant to be a happy night. A feast celebrating a step towards the actualization of their dreams. But as life would have it, Happily Ever After is only in fairy tales, and the closest we can come to fate is poetic justice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poetic Justice

Poetic Justice

It had been a tantalizingly merry feast that night. As if the joy derived from a mere vision of what could have been, was only allowed so that the tragic events that followed afterwards would juxtapose the happiness caused with equal sorrow. A truly cruel twist of events that night had brought.  
The monarch of the realm, King Michael, was celebrating his ostensible victory over the infamous Mad King Ryan. The pride of success was also shrouded in mystery, as only one of Ryan’s allies, a blacksmith turned confidant who went by the name of Jack, had been killed in the battle. The Mad King’s other ally, a former King Geoff, was to be apprehended, and Ryan himself hadn’t been seen since the slaughter of his armies. Despite this uncertainty, the kingdom insisted on celebrating, as an uncertain victory was better than definite defeat.   
Only a week prior, Michael had retaken the regions forcefully acquired from his family during his childhood. The Mad King had ensured that no other members of the House of Mogar were alive to celebrate this triumph. But that had only motivated Michael even more. His bruised ego was only made worse by the fact that the lives of the family he was fighting for had been taken by the same man who stole land from them as well.  
Despite his unfortunate isolation, Michael was not completely alone. Aside from the assumed success, the kingdom was also celebrating the coronation of Prince Gavin. That very morning, he had been named co-ruler of the land, sharing almost equal power with Michael. Those more informed in the land had mixed views on this. On the one hand, Michael had no heirs, so it made sense for him to want a sense of security. If anything should happen to him - even for a short period of time - power would fall into the hands of a person he trusted, rather than fought over by squabbling generals and noblemen. On the other hand, it was known to some that Michael had another ally, by the name of Ray. But instead of lifting him up to the same status as Gavin, he used him as an assassin and spy. Could this simply be because Ray did not want to be included in this circle, or wasn’t to be trusted? Or did the truth lie in the noticeably softer glances Michael had for Gavin? Perhaps in the subtle ways they managed to brush against each other in public, or the expressions of joy full of more meaning than simply merriment. There were some who said that Gavin was more useful to Michael in the bed than on the throne...   
But the common folk had no time for conjectured speculation. They focused less on what might be, and dealt with what they perceived. So to the masses, Gavin was simply another mighty figure to idolize and thank for saving them from the Mad King, who no doubt, would have made their already short and superfluous lives all the more pitiful. The taxation and labour was already hell, but tales from the denizens of the retaken lands convinced them that the devil they knew presided over a much kinder hell than the devil they didn’t. Despite their positivity however, it was not the peasants, but the cynical nobles who enjoyed the bulk of that night’s feast in the royal dining hall. Other than a day off from work, the plebeians gained little more than a sense of safety and pride.  
Now the dining hall of the king’s abode was not as large as those belonging to other kings and lords in the realm. The House of Mogar, though proud, was not pompous, and preferred their might to be seen in their actions and strength, rather than their wealth and estates. The restoring of previously owned land however, had brought in a considerable amount of wealth. The usually cold stone walls were aglow with the soft yellow light of mounted torches, and candles in hanging chandeliers. Hung from ceilings, walls, and draped over dining tables, as well as cushions and chairs were brightly coloured tapestries and the banners of the three men who were responsible for the feast.  
The red and gold banners, depicting three roses with their black thorns twisting around a golden dagger belonged to the family of Ray, though like Michael’s they too had passed on due to the actions of the Mad King. The symbol representing Gavin’s family was a white hawk, mid flight, over a fabric the colour of spring grass with silver trim on the edges. After a series of unexplained assassinations, Gavin had been left in the care of King Geoff (now on the run) who had substituted for his now dead father. The childhood had been wonderful, but adolescence had brought in conflicting political views, which distanced the two until the estrangement had made them enemies. Gavin now preferred only to use the signs of his biological family. Lastly, were the flame orange banners, loudly showing off the House of Mogar’s animal - a ferocious brown bear in profile, donning a feral snarl. Many noted that the orange banners were in much greater supply and size than the other two, and the red banners were quite smaller, and seen infrequently, if at all.  
In rows, all through the hall were impressively long wooden tables, heaped high with platters of meats, fruit, pastries and the like. The western wall was the only with windows, but these were large, nearly floor to ceiling, and allowed for a beautiful display of the now setting sun. On the end of the chamber, opposite the main doors was a dais leading up to two thrones and a few other chairs beside them. These two were not the official thrones, but were meant merely for dining, and where carved of wood. The larger of the two, which Michael sat in, was made of a darker wood, and attached to it were bright red cushions. The smaller throne, belonging to Gavin, was lighter and he sat upon cushions with a soft olive hue. A third throne would have been set in place for Ray, but he had been tasked with the mission of locating and capturing Gavin’s surrogate father. The other seats were meant for a select few: trusted and capable advisors and generals - those closest to the king save Gavin.  
A smaller table had been set on this dais, but considering it’s elevation and the people seated around it, there was no doubt that this was the head of the room.   
The King and his Prince sat happily together, watching over the joyous eating accompanied by lively music from a small band of musicians.  
“This is it Michael,” Gavin said, his green eyes aglow, “This is all we’ve ever wanted. Look,” he gestured out to the dining crowd, “Remember when your court was only a few renegades brave enough to follow you? This isn’t an underground rebellion anymore, you have an entire kingdom!”  
Michael nodded slowly, still unaccustomed to the new golden crown he wore on his head. It was much heavier than the sleek silver ornament Gavin wore on his.  
“A kingdom which shall soon be an empire,” the king took a sip from his goblet, not noticing the hesitant gaze on his co-ruler’s face.  
“Michael,” Gavin said quietly, “isn’t it a bit soon to be planning already? I mean, you just got out of battle, your wounds haven’t fully healed yet!”  
“Wounds,” Michael scoffed, “A few scrapes and scratches more like. If you went to battle more often, you’d know that my ailments are minor.”  
He said this with verve, but Gavin had seen the bruises and gashes when no one else was around. None of them had been lethal, but infection was a definite possibility.  
“At any rate,” Michael continued, “It’s never too soon to start planning. If I settle down, I’ll become comfortable and cocky like Ryan did.”  
“Well you’re about halfway there.” the prince said under his breath.  
Michael smirked at him and laughed, “You don’t think I’m right in my confidence?”  
“I think,” he retorted, “That there’s no harm in taking things slow for a while. I’m just concerned for your health. Not to mention- well I thought that this was what we’ve been working so hard for. You’ve only ever talked about reclaiming your family’s lands, not building an empire from the lands of others.”  
“Oh relax,” the king said, “You’re the one who needs to sit back and stop your fussing. Enjoy the party if tranquility matters to you so much. I take care of all the planning anyway,” Michael leaned in a bit closer, brushing his hand against Gavin’s, “so don’t worry your pretty little head.”  
“Uh-” Gavin sputtered, “I-”  
Michael smiled again, cocking his head to the side as he pulled away, “You still don’t know how to do this, do you? Just laugh as if I’ve told a joke.”  
Gavin found himself laughing despite his racing heart. Michael had changed so much in his short time of coming to power. He had gone from constantly turning Gavin a cold shoulder to finding new ways to make him feel uncomfortable in public. But no one at the table was giving them odd looks, so his acting may have been better than he thought- either that or they were simply averting their gazes and meant to gossip about King Michael and his little Prince later on.  
Michael was laughing as well, but more genuinely. The sound of his voice, and seeing him happy after years of tortured anger helped Gavin calm down.  
There’s nothing to worry about, he told himself. Just look at how happy Michael is. You’ve finally made it this far.  
At that moment, the doors of the hall swung open, and in strutted Ray, clad in his dark clothes and cape, accented with a deep red the colour of rose petals. He had a self-satisfied smile on his face, as well as a covered silver platter balanced in his white gloved hands. He strode down the centre of the chamber, his cape sweeping behind him. A soft hush fell on the diners as he ascended the dais.  
“My king,” He said, kneeling in front of Michael’s table. “Ah, m-my Prince,” he awkwardly shoehorned Gavin’s title in as well, remembering that he too, was of importance. “I have completed the task.”  
Michael’s eyes widened, and he held out his hand, but before he had a chance to speak, Ray uncovered the silver platter in a grand gesture, revealing what he had been hiding.  
A gasp went through the room as realization struck the crowd. Gavin immediately got up and nearly staggered to the ground, fighting the nausea that now threatened to empty the contents of the feast back onto the table.   
On the silver platter was the severed head of King Geoff. The mouth hung loosely open, and the half-covered eyes seemed to stare straight at Gavin, still accusing him of past sins and transgressions.  
Michael stood as well, but with more control, his breathing slow. “Ray,” he said quietly, “This isn’t-”  
“You killed him!” Gavin cried, making no attempt to hide his emotions, “You-”  
“Gavin, please.” Michael said sharply, “This is no time for-”  
“You ordered this, didn’t you?” Gavin continued, ignoring the red shame in Michael’s face.  
“I-” Michael started. But he didn’t finish. Gavin was already descending, making his way out of the hall will an arm flung over his face in an attempt to hide the tears and stop the vomiting.

◎◎◎

Behind the Dining Hall was a small antechamber, used for secret meetings and, should the castle ever be put under siege, the storage of food and a hiding place for those deemed important enough for survival. This was where Michael and Ray now stood, in a dark corner surrounded by stocks of grain and corn. After ordering one of his advisors to preside over the remainder of the feast, he had taken Ray to this room to discuss the events prior to their departure from the Dining Hall.  
“That was not what I asked you to do!” Michael whispered furiously.  
“Yes it was!” Ray objected, “You told me to eliminate the target, and that’s what I did!”  
“Yes,” Michael seethed, “But you weren’t supposed to bring his fucking head on a silver platter, and make a goddamn show of it!”  
“I thought it would amuse the people! You know, boost their morale!”  
Michael inhaled sharply, shaking with fury, “It’s not your place to decide what the people want!” He placed his index finger on Ray’s chest, and poked him with every stressed syllable, “It’s your job to do what I say without screwing up! This was screwing up, Ray!”  
“But how?” the assassin asked angrily, pushing Michael’s hand away, “Now Ryan is your only enemy!”  
“But Geoff was Gavin’s father! I thought you’d be at least smart enough to tell him that one of the guards misread orders and killed him, or he took his life to evade capture, or something! Now Gavin will know that I was the one who ordered his death!”  
Ray stared at him in disbelief, a look of disgust on his face, “So that’s what this is about? You’d be alright with parading Geoff’s head around on a stick if it weren’t for your precious little prince!”  
Michael rose his hand and struck Ray across the face, his signet ring slashing the tender flesh. He then grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close, making sure that any spittle that happened to fly from his angered lips caught Ray’s skin.  
“You listen Ray,” the king growled, his voice low and commanding, “You are nothing more than a pawn to me, understand? I could order your death with the snap of my fingers because spilling your lowly blood with my own hands isn’t worth the effort. So- I’ll tell you this one more time, and you better fucking listen: Know. Your. Place. Understand?”  
At first Ray looked shocked, even scared for his life. But soon his terror turned to mockery, and a smile spread across his lips. “You know what Michael? You’ve changed so much. I remember the days before I met you. When I used to work for the Mad King. He would manipulate whoever he wanted because to to him, the ends were always more important that the means. And can I tell you something?” He leaned in to whisper in his king’s ear, “You’re starting to sound just like him.”  
Michael began to shake again, but this time not from anger. He pushed Ray away and quickly shoved a bag of silver and gold coins into his hands.   
“Just get the hell out of here.”  
“With pleasure, Michael. With pleasure.”

◎◎◎

The retching took full effect once Gavin had reached the gardens. The smoked bull and wine he had ingested erupted from his throat in a burning acidic mixture, fueled by his anger, grief and disgust. He doubled over as the vomit sloshed onto the paved ground, and he had to turn away from the stench for fear that more of his dinner would make a second appearance.   
Staggering to a bench, a good distance away from his regurgitated meal, Gavin sat down and buried his face in his hands, trying to stop the hot tears from escaping their ducts.   
When just over a quarter of an hour had passed, he began to hear the impact of boots on stone, the sound growing louder with each step. Gavin didn’t have to look up to know who it was, and he immediately turned his back to the echoey footfalls.  
“Leave me be.” He mumbled angrily, making an attempt to wipe away the tears before they were seen.  
“Gavin-” Michael started, his voice softer than usual, “You need to believe me, your father’s death wasn’t what I asked for!”  
“Don’t!” Gavin exclaimed, “Just stop talking, I don’t want to hear your voice!” He covered his ears childishly, but the King continued his explanation.  
“You don’t understand!” Michael shouted, “My men didn’t kill him!”  
Gavin froze, slowly moving his clenched fists away from his ears. “What...what do you mean?”  
“All I did was tell them to capture him and bring him here! But when they got to his hideout he...he had hung himself Gavin.”  
The Prince’s eyes grew wide, filling once more with tears, “He….what?”  
“Ray decided to cut his head off for show. The people were still bloodthirsty after Jack’s death, and they needed something to boost their spirits.”  
“Boost their spirits?” Gavin spat, “I can’t believe you! He was my father, not some prize hog to parade around like a trophy!”  
“I-I know Gavin, I’m sorry, I never wanted him to do it like this.” He reached out his hand, trying to squeeze Gavin’s shoulder, but he was pushed violently away.  
“Don’t touch me!” Gavin got up from the bench and began walking away, but Michael followed him.  
“But it wasn’t my fault!” Michael yelled, “I never ordered his death!”  
“It was your bloody war that caused it! Why couldn’t we have just lived a quiet life in the countryside?”  
“Oh, my war?” Michael asked, “If I remember correctly, you were by my side the entire time! And if anyone should apologize for their behaviour, it’s you! You should know better than anyone that we can’t show so much emotion in front of the people, it makes us look weak!”  
“I STOOD BY YOUR SIDE BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” Gavin yelled at the top of his lungs, “AND IF YOU’RE TOO EMBARRASSED ME - OF US, THEN YOU CAN HAVE THE BLOODY THRONE ALL TO YOURSELF BECAUSE I DON’T WANT IT ANY MORE!” With that, Gavin tore the silver crown from his head, ignoring the sharp edges that dug into his skin. He flung it at Michael’s feet, heaving deep pain-filled breaths as he did so.  
“Gavin-”  
“No! I don’t want to hear any more!”  
“Gavin!”   
The Prince looked up to see that Michael was frozen in fear. A look that only crossed his face when Gavin was in danger. An odd, deep red glow shone on his face, giving him a demonic look in contradistinction to the shadows of the dark night.  
“Gavin...just...don’t move.”  
But he had already spun around, filled with a dreadful curiosity at what could frighten the brave King Michael to such extent. He was met with the looming figure of the Mad King, holding a golden sceptre in his hand, a dark red jewel atop it, which was the source of the scarlet radiance.  
A terrible smile played across King Ryan’s face, the red light making him into an even more grotesque beast than Michael. Then the horrible realization came upon Gavin that this hell he was living in was nothing compared to the hell he would most unfortunately and inexorably enter, due to the sudden appearance of his lover’s worst enemy.  
“Good night little Prince,” Ryan said softly, raising his sceptre above his head. He brought it down to Gavin’s skull and all the world melted away in a sudden and dreadful flash of red light. The light then faded to nothingness, and Gavin was sure he had passed into the land of Death.  
If only he had been so lucky.  
◎◎◎

Gavin woke up with a pounding head and sore limbs. He found that he had been shackled to a wall, his arms held above him in a most uncomfortable manner. Upon further inspection of his surroundings, he realized with horror that he was in a damp and musty dungeon cell, stripped down to his trousers. The walls were made of grey stone, and a tiny glassless window was to his left, opposite to the door, where the ceiling met the outside ground. This was the only source of light, but it appeared to be a cloudy morning, as the light that did stream in was dull and cold. On the other side of the filthy prison was Michael, similarly deprived of his royal clothes and covered in old bruises as well as new ones from a recent struggle. He breathed heavily in and out, refusing to meet Gavin’s eyes.  
“Michael?” Gavin called, his voice cracked and quiet due to his unknown hours of dehydration. “Michael what’s-?”  
He stopped suddenly as a horrid smell came wafting through the tiny window of the cell - the stench of burning flesh. Shortly after came an agonizing cry that sounded hauntingly familiar. Gavin realized with terror that the wails belonged to Ray.  
“Michael!” he cried, “Michael what are they doing to him?”  
It was some time before he answered, and when he did, his voice was low and grave. “They’re burning him Gavin. Very slowly.”  
“I don’t- I don’t understand-”  
“Don’t you remember? The feast? Ryan came and-” He didn’t continue. The look on Gavin’s face was enough to show that memories had returned. “Well,” he started again, “Ryan’s particularly mad with Ray. He used to work for him, and there were even rumours that Ryan was more to him than simply his master. Can you imagine that?” Michael tried for a smile, but it was impossible to feel any joy when they could hear Ray being tortured so brutally. They could even hear cheering and music playing - it was being presented as entertainment.  
An hour had passed and the screaming still continued. Or had it been a few hours? Gavin had no way of keeping time, and his surroundings weren’t making it any easier. His many attempts to break free had taken up much of the time, but by then his wrists were swollen and bleeding, so he gave up, allowing his body to hang limp from his arms. At first he wondered why Michael hadn’t attempted escape as well, seeing that he was much stronger. But his wrists were in worse shape than Gavin’s, so it could only be assumed that he had reached the peak of his fighting spirit long before the prince had woken up.  
When he could no longer bear the sound of Ray’s agonized screams, he began screaming himself, tears welling up in his eyes, “I can’t take this anymore! Why hasn’t he died yet, hasn’t he suffered enough? Shouldn’t the smoke have suffocated him by now?”  
Michael shook his head, his eyes still trained on the floor, “They’re not burning him at the stake Gavin, they’re putting heated daggers against his flesh and tearing it open.”  
“How do you know?”  
“Because Ryan told me. Before you came to, he told me and Ray exactly what he would do to us so we would know exactly how bad it would be. He decided to kill us using the symbols of our Houses. ‘Poetic justice,’ he called it. Sounds more like pretentious bullshit to me.”  
“...Michael?”  
“Yes?”  
“What...what’s Ryan planning to do to us?”  
Michael finally looked up at him, deep sorrow in his eyes, “Gavin, I-”  
“Tell me! Stop trying to protect me, there’s no use now! Be honest with me for once, before we both die!”  
“Before I die.” Michael corrected.  
“...what?”  
“I’m going to be chained in the town square and set upon by malnourished bears. They’ll be leashed too far away from the audience, but just close enough to me to get a chunk of flesh each time…”  
Gavin shook his head, tears streaking down his face for about the hundredth time that day, “Michael-”  
“Gavin…please stop crying.”  
“Well I’m sorry that I’m not as strong as you Michael! I can’t always hide my emotions and be an iron wall of courage!”  
“No Gavin that’s not - I mean I….I can’t watch you cry anymore, it’s breaking my heart.”  
Neither of them spoke for a long time.  
“So what are they going to do to me then?” Gavin finally asked.  
“Nothing. They’re going to leave you here so that you can hear me being eaten, and then….then you’ll die of dehydration.”  
Another few minutes of silence. It was Michael who broke it this time.  
“I’m sorry Gavin”  
“Don’t.”  
“I’m serious. I am sorry.”  
“You have nothing to be sorry for. You always did what you thought was best-”  
“Gavin you don’t understand-”  
Before Michael continued, they both froze, looking up at the window. The screams that had turned to lifeless moaning had stopped. Ray was dead. Which meant it was now Michael’s turn.  
Gavin immediately began to think of things to say. Confessions, apologies; everything that he had kept bottled up inside even when he and Michael were alone. But guards had already begun to flood into their cell, unshackling Michael from the wall, each guard holding a chain attached to his ankles, his wrists, a collar around his neck. There was no escape, and they were running out of time.  
“Wait!” Gavin called, “Wait please!”  
“It was my fault!” Michael called, struggling against the might of six guards, “I lied to you Gavin!”  
“What?”  
Michael pulled with all his might, breaking free only enough to land on the hard ground, scraping his face as he did so. He turned to Gavin, tears filling his eyes, “I told Ray to kill Geoff, and I’m so sorry, I-”  
He was cut short as a guard stomped heavily on his head, another kicking his stomach, and the other joining in until he was convulsing and vomiting blood.  
They dragged him to his feet, and he looked at his Prince for one last time, “I deserve this.” He whispered, blood, spittle and tears running down his swelling face.  
The guard then removed him from the cell and brought him to the surface. At first, over the cheering, Gavin could hear only grunts. Michael was trying to make as little sound as possible, whether it was for Gavin’s sake, or a last-ditch effort to uphold his dignity, he couldn’t be sure. But as time wore on, and more and more of his innards and bones were exposed, the dignified groans turned into sharp cries and eventually sobbing.  
He had lost everything. His family, his crown, his pride, his lover and now his life. This was the end, and it was not a happy one.  
Gavin on the other hand, had made no attempt to stop his screaming. He simply couldn’t control them. He kept screaming and screaming and screaming, even after he could no longer hear anything from Michael. He himself didn’t know what he was trying to accomplish. Perhaps the guards would get tired of hearing him, and someone would come along to put him out of his misery. But so such salvation arrived.  
After a while he lost his voice, and when croaking his pain and heartbreak was no longer possible, he went back to lying limp. Sinking in and out of sleep, he would awake and begin to scream again, only to retract the statement, melting back to his pitiful position of helpless suffering. Sometimes he would think he was dreaming - that this was all a horrible nightmare, and he was back in his bed and Michael would come and wake him up and perhaps tease him for allowing a dream to disturb him so severely.  
So he went back to sleep and dreamed of Michael, and waited for his King to arrive. When disappointment came, he would simply wait, and wait, and wait, and wait….  
And some say that his soul, now free of the confines of mortal flesh and bone, is in that cell, waiting still.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> So...yes there's that. This was definitely stronger than my other AU's in terms of wording and writing style, but the plot....it felt a bit aimless. I don't know. It felt less like telling a multipart story or epic saga, and more like just writing for the sake of it. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I don't know.   
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave comments and tips and PLEASE don't hesitate to correct any mistakes I've made.


End file.
